


We Fight Until Our Last Breath

by MaddieandChimney



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: F/M, TW: Blood, tw: car accident, tw: injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieandChimney/pseuds/MaddieandChimney
Summary: "This is the 118, and we fight until our last breath, can you do that for me?"In the aftermath of a horrific car accident, Maddie falls into complete silence, terrified that Chimney won't pull through.
Relationships: Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18
Collections: Madney One-Shots





	We Fight Until Our Last Breath

Buck kneels down in front of her, his hands on her knees as he dips his head in an attempt to get her attention. She doesn’t move from her position, she hasn’t moved in hours, her head in her hands as she just stares down at the floor. She hasn’t spoken in hours, despite the best attempts of her brother, who’s only growing increasingly concerned by the second. She can feel it in the way his hands are shaking, she can hear it in the slight quiver of his voice as he says her name once again, as though it’s going to snap her out of it.

It doesn’t work.

Maddie wishes more than anything that he would just give up, back off and leave her to her own thoughts in peace. “Maddie?” No such luck, she figures, she’s not the only stubborn Buckley, but she’s definitely certain she can out-stubborn him anytime.

He repeats her name again, and this time, she flinches, realising how much his voice is grating on her. “Buck, back off, come on…” It’s Hen’s calm voice that thankfully, saves her little brother from whatever hell Maddie was about to bestow upon him. She’s just grateful, so beyond grateful when no one else dares to approach her when she resumes her original position. Head in her hands, staring down at the floor.

Maddie isn’t sure she can cry anymore, she’s cried more and harder than she can ever remember, in the past few hours. She’s not sure if there’s anything else left within her, she’s spent – emotionally and physically. Completely and utterly beyond exhausted, she feels as though she could sleep for weeks, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

More time passes, more time without any update on her boyfriend, more time not knowing if he’s even going to make it off the table. Maddie isn’t sure she could actually live without him, but there’s a baby growing inside of her and she knows she’ll have to go on, no matter what. A world without Howard Han feels like an impossible world to live in, but she had seen him, she had given him CPR, she had begged him to stay with her.

“Maddie?” She’d recognise the soft voice of his best friend anywhere, but it doesn’t make her look up, “Hey, Maddie… I know you’re in shock right now, and I know you’ve refused help but I really would like it if you at least let me look you over, please?” She can barely remember the ambulance arriving at the scene, insisting they absolutely focused all of their attention on her unconscious boyfriend and not on her.

It’s careless, she’s going to be a mother, she was in the car with him when they crashed but still, she distinctly remembers pushing hands away from her and telling them not to touch her. That she was fine. Chimney wasn’t fine, his side of the car had taken the brunt of the accident and she was well within her right to refuse medical care if that was what she wanted.

It’s still careless, even if she knows she’s fine. The problem is emotional, not physical. The problem can’t be fixed by bandages, and the gentle touch of another human being. This is the kind of problem that can only be fixed by one person, the same person who may not make it. His heart had stopped twice.

She doesn’t say anything, and Hen sees it as an invitation to touch her, causing Maddie to scramble up, sending Hen flying back onto the floor. She wants to scream, wants to tell Hen that she doesn’t deserve her comfort – they wouldn’t have even been driving if it wasn’t for her. They would have been tucked up safely in bed if she hadn’t absolutely insisted on a late night drive because she finally felt human enough after weeks of morning sickness. She had made him take her to the beach, where they had stayed and talked for hours and hours, about everything and nothing. They had laughed and kissed, and she could remember feeling so completely overwhelmed with love and happiness.

If they had been where they were meant to be, at home, he would have been fine. They could have talked and laughed in their apartment, completely safe.

Maddie doesn’t watch as Bobby quickly moves to help Hen up, who only shrugs him off and moves back over to the woman, “Maddie, hey, honey…” Why is she still talking to her like she cares? Why is she still trying to comfort her when she’s responsible for the fact her best friend is probably dead? “I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but we’re all really close to getting a doctor over here to sedate you and I know that’s not what you want.”

Actually, she thinks, maybe, sedation sounds good right then. She could escape, even if it was only for a few hours. She could just have some peace from the thoughts scrambling around in her head, the way that internal voice is screaming at her. She’s selfish, so beyond selfish. Chimney could die because of her and it’s not even the first time. If he survives, she wonders if he’ll even want her near him, or if he’ll realise she’s nothing more than a burden. A burden who somehow ends up hurting him over and over again.

She doesn’t mean to, she never wants to hurt him but she still can’t help but feel as though she’s no better than Doug.

“Please, just let me or a nurse look you over? If not for yourself, for the baby, right?” Maddie’s eyes move down to the slight bump, she’s only sixteen weeks gone, but the baby already knew so much more love than she could have imagined. From Chimney, the Lees, Albert, her brother, the 118 family. She’s never known so much love, she supposes it would only be fitting if she’s destroyed that too.

There’s the distinct sound of a hand slamming down against something hard, quickly followed by the angry voice of her brother, “Maddie! For fucks sake! You think it’s going to help Chimney if he comes out and you’re—like this?! Do you seriously---” He doesn’t get to finish, Bobby coming between the two Buckley’s, pushing the younger man back. She doesn’t know what he’s whispering to her brother – probably, she imagines, that she’s simply not worth it. She’s not worth anything.

“She hasn’t said a word in five fucking hours, Bobby. She can’t---what are we meant to do?” Her brother’s voice control has never been adequate, it’s practically echoing around the otherwise empty family room right then.

Somehow, Hen’s voice is still calm, filled with relief when Maddie finally nods her head, allowing herself to be led to the nearest chair. She knows it’s nothing serious, she knows it’s because the car hit Chimney’s side of the car, that everything she suffers is incomparable. Unless she’s killed her baby, too, which somehow feels like an suitable punishment for what hell she’s put Chimney through. “You must have hit your head, do you remember that, Maddie?”

For a moment, Maddie finds herself wondering how comforting Hen must be when she’s on scene as a paramedic. How her voice seems to soothe her even when she doesn’t feel as though she deserves to have any form of comfort from anyone, especially not the people who love Chimney almost as much as she claims to.

She only shrugs her shoulders, really not remembering or feeling as though she’s hit her head, but when Hen reaches out to gently wipe at the wound with an anti-septic wipe, it’s the first sting of pain she’s felt. She flinches, only slightly, enough to make the other woman hesitate before she continues. “You’re going to need stitches,” She hadn’t even noticed the blood that must have fallen down her face, feeling the gentle wipe across her cheek and down to her jaw.

“I’ll bandage your hands up, check there’s no glass but when we hear Chimney is out of surgery, do you promise me you’ll let me take you to see a doctor?” Hen unclenches Maddie’s fists, revealing the angry cuts from when she had scrambled through broken glass to get Chimney out of the car. When she had brushed it from his body without a thought in the world for herself – she had felt nothing but pain for him right then. She just needed him to be okay.

Slowly, she nods her head and Hen gives her a small, uncertain smile, relieved to have finally got some form of positive communication. At least it confirmed that Maddie could hear them, that she wasn’t just catatonic as she had been when they first arrived. “That’s good, that’s great, honey. And you know the surgeon is going to be out very soon and tell us that Chimney has pulled through because that’s what he does. Do you hear me?”

Finally, she allows her eyes to meet the desperate, loving eyes of the person who’s become such a huge part of her life, such a pillar of support especially since she had gotten pregnant, and even before that. “He’s been through so much, but this time, he has two amazing things to fight for. He has you and he has that little baby growing inside you, and you’ve got to fight for them right back, do you understand me, Maddie? Because I don’t think you’re fighting right now, I think you’re ready to give up on him and yourself and that’s not what we do, right? The 118 family, your family, we fight with every last breath. So, can you do that for me? You don’t have to speak, not if you don’t want to but can you try get through whatever is going through your head right now?”

Her eyes well up with tears she never even knew she had left in her to cry, but she nods her head and let’s Hen get to work on her hands, closing her eyes as the numbness starts to ease ever so slightly. “There we go,” She listens to the soft words of comfort coming from the woman kneeling in front of her, still feeling undeserving but letting them sink in.

“Family of Howard Han?” Those words are the only words spoken that force Hen to move, standing up and looking over at the new presence in the room, and all Maddie can hear are the words ‘alive’, ‘ICU’ and ‘stable’ before she finally lets out the heart wrenching sob she’s been holding in since she got into the back of the ambulance with him. It’s Buck and Hen who wrap their arms around her, and she feels safe and loved and slightly less undeserving than she had moments before.

He was going to be okay.


End file.
